What Comes Next?
by Queensoffiction
Summary: Maria Reynolds has no where to go. Her daughter is sick, and dying of malaria. Her only option is to go to the woman who hates her, and pray she gives her a job to afford her daughter's medicine. Eliza Hamilton is distraught. Her husband cheated on her. She feels utterly alone in the world, until she meets Maria Reynolds. Somehow, in the strangest way, an odd love story forms.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Maria I

Maria Reynolds felt woozy. She felt tired, sick, terrified, and insane all at the same time. She wanted to die. Her throat felt like it was closing up. She wanted to scream. To go insane, scream and kick, for her to lose all her wits, so she didn't understand what was happening. That would be preferable to this. Her nails were digging so hard into her hand, she was sure they were bleeding. It didn't matter. No physical pain could compare to the emotional pain of hearing those words.

 _"_ _She has malaria,"_ the doctor's voice was echoing in her head. He could have whispered it, and Maria wouldn't be able to tell. In her mind, he was screaming it. _"I'm so sorry, she won't make it past the…"_ The rest of the worlds became incomprehensible. She understood, even if she didn't want to. No matter how hard she'd prayed, and begged, and screamed, and fasted, and cried, there was nothing she could do. Her daughter was going to die.

It was his fault. It was always his fault. Every problem in Maria's life led back to _him._ He had been the one to go down south to visit a drunken tavern, of all things. _"The best one in all of America,"_ He'd bragged. _"You'll stay here with the kid. The more time you spend with the bastard politician, the more money we get."_ James had been gone for two wonderful months, coming back with a hearty case of malaria. He'd passed it onto Susan. James got better, Susan was going quick.

"Mrs. Reynolds," the doctor said softly. "At this point, the best option is to send her off where she can be better cared for. Or, we could make her death quicker and subdue the pai-"

"Get out of my house," She refused to look up. Tears were streaming down her face. "I'll be here for her, no matter what. Under no circumstance am I leaving my girl, understood?" Her voice hardly even cracked.

"Yes, madame," the doctor's retreating footstep was the loudest noise in the whole house. It was silent, save for the sound of Susan's breathing.

"My girl," Maria stroked her cheek with her thumb. "My beautiful, beautiful girl." Susan Reynolds didn't look like Maria in the slightest way. Hardly a hint of Maria was evident on her face. She'd been born with sweet, soft blonde curls, eyes as blue as a rushing river, and high pink cheeks. She looked like a gentler, sweeter, kinder version of her father. An innocent version. _"Such a beauty,"_ Maria thought.

Now, on the other hand, she looked like she'd been hit by a twister. Her blonde curls were wet from the ice bath, and her forehead dripping with sweat. Her eyes were constantly squeezing shut, and Susan was constantly deliriously moaning "to stop the pain" and calling for her mother. There was nothing Maria could do. She felt so _helpless._

 _"_ _MARIA!"_ A loud voice yelled. The door swung open, shaking the door frame. Her "beloved" husband stepped into the room, a sneer on his face. He didn't even notice his only child, lying weakly in pain. "Where is dinner?"

Maria stood up shakily. Her knees wanted to give out. She looked James in the eye. God knows what he does when he thinks she's being "disrespectful." She still had the marks. "I am sorry. I didn't, I didn't make it," Her words started to slur. "I was busy. The doctor came over he said that Susan-"

An internal motherly strength erupted from her. Without thinking, she slapped him as hard as she could. _"DON'T-YOU-EVER-TOUCH-MY-CHILD!"_ She accented every word with a harsh shove.

"You BITCH!" He swung to strike her. But Maria was quicker. She ducked. This was the man who had ruined her life and her daughter's. Without Susan she had nothing to live for. She might as well go down fighting.

Her adrenaline was up. Hard as she could, she shoved him, screaming, _"NEVER AGAIN!"_ He lost his footing. On the top of the stairs, something James had thrown at her, looking at it days ago, was a pamphlet that held the world. He hadn't seen it behind him. He tripped, spiraling down a flight of stairs.

"My god," Her voice shook. She didn't care she hurt him. No he'd raped and beat her for years, it was time she got her chance. She was scared for what would happen when he woke up. Where was she to go? Her mother had died, and her father, a merchant, was God knows where at this point. Her brother had publicly called her a _"bastard's whore"_ and said _"she did't even know Susan's father."_ The only stable home she'd ever had was this once, disturbingly enough. The home where she'd been beaten and abused. She was down to her last option now. She was desperate at this point, and the only place she could pray for refugee, was the place she was hated at most now.

She looked at little Susan, crying, curled up in a ball. She had to keep her Susan safe. No matter what she had to do.

"Come here, kitten," Maria whispered. She lifted up the child easily. She's too light for a child her age, Maria thought worried, she has to eat more if she wants to get better. _I refuse to let her die._ She looked once more around the place she'd called home. She carried Susan into the bedroom, took the small purse of thirty Continentals [dollars], grabbed her best coat to wrap around Susan, headed down the stairs, and walked out in the rain. Maria hoped her thick dress layers would keep her warm. Someone had to care for Susan.

Her feet knew the way. The rain splattered against her face, soaking her hair, yet she held her head high. Her Susan was no whore's daughter. Her Susan was the most beautiful and lovely girl in all of the States. She ignored the stares, the points, the laughs, and the looks. All that mattered was getting her Susan to safety.

"Mama," Susan whispered. Her voice was raspy. "I'm so hot. It's too hot, Mama." She lolled her head to the sky, and let the rain soak her forehead. Her blonde curls took to her face.

Maria kissed her head firmly. "We're almost there, baby, we're almost there. We'll get you help. No matter what I've done, I pray they won't refuse an innocent child." _I hope._

Finally the welcoming lights of the home she arrived at were seen. The house was grand and yellow. Flowers grew out in the front, on lovely green grass. The house looked inviting, unlike her own cold, grimy, and melancholy one. There was a yard for children to play. A true home. A place, where Maria hoped above all things, her Susan could find help. Susan didn't deserve to suffer for Maria's own sins.

"It'll be okay, baby," Tears were streaming down her face. Susan was unconscious again. Her forehead still burned, and still in her sleep Maria watched Susan's small doll hand shake with a muscle spasm of pain. "I'm here. I'm here." She knocked on the door.

A few moments later, Eliza Hamilton opened the door, her eyes red, and tired, her face full of grief. Her eyes widened seeing Maria, and hardened. Her lips went into a tight line. Maria only felt shame. _If I were in your position, I would feel the very same way."_

"Please," Her voice shook. "Help her." She looked at Eliza, who finally seemed to notice Susan. Maria's head felt woozy. Who was she thinking this woman whose life she ruined would help her? There was no hope. She was truly, and utterly helpless. Her knees went wobbly, and that's when the day became too much, and she fainted.


	2. Chapter Two: Eliza I

Chapter Two: Eliza I

Of all things, Eliza Hamilton didn't expect to find a sickly girl and her husband's—perhaps _ex_ soon enough with the way things were going—mistress at her doorstep. Part of her wished it was Alexander, the other half was angry, confused, and shocked. A mix of everything that had been boiling up inside her at the mention of Maria Reynold's name. Now, now she didn't even know what to think. In ten seconds, everything changed, but for Eliza, it felt like ten hours…

"Jonathan!" Eliza yelled. She walked into the rain, her hair sticking to her face. "JONATHAN! COME AT ONCE!" She yelled again. She put Maria's head on her lap, and felt her pulse. "You're okay, you're okay. Mrs. Reynolds, you're okay." She looked at Susan. The blonde little girl, who Eliza luckily managed to catch before her mother fell, was shaking in her arms, wailing loudly. "LIZABETH! FETCH THE DOCTOR!"

Her two black servants rushed out quickly. "Ms. Eliza!" Lizabeth's eyes widened. "Is she—?" She didn't have to finish the sentence.

"No," Eliza said, "Please hurry, Lizabeth, or I fear soon enough she will be." The girl nodded, and hurried off to the horse carriage, hurriedly ordering the footmen to go fast. "Jonathan, I need you to pick up carry Mrs. Reynolds to one of our guest rooms. On your way up, have Dolly and Madison fetch clean clothes." He nodded, and effortlessly carried the woman inside their home.

"I've got you," Eliza whispered to Susan. "I've got you." She carried her inside. Susan nuzzled her burning head into Eliza's neck.

"Hot," She moaned. "Mama. Mama…" _"She's sick,"_ Eliza's thoughts were racing. _"Smallpox? Malaria? The spring fever? She''s burning up like a kettle. I have to get it down or she'll die."_

Eliza went straight to work. She burst into the kitchen, still clutching Susan. She poured the coldest water into the basin, and got a rag. She lied the child down on the kitchen table. "This will be cold, little one," Eliza said softly, using the voice she reserved for her own children. _Her children._ Angelica, Phillip, and the rest must've been awakened by the loud noises at such a late hour.

She dipped the rag into the water, and wiped it on Susan's forehead. "Can you speak?" Eliza asked. If she was delirious, then now more than ever they would need the doctor. "What is your name?"

"S-S-Susan," Her voice was raspy and weak. "Reynolds." Eliza wiped more water on her forehead. "Mama?" She coughed. "Mama… fall…okay?

"I'll do everything in my power to make sure she's okay," Eliza replied. "We're going to use home remedies my mother use to use on me and my sisters. Let me take that coat, it's much too thick indoors." She pulled off the layers of Susan's dress until she was in a light chemise—something that resembled a thin, bed dress.

"Drink this." She handed her a cup of orange juice. "This'll help you get better." Eliza sat down on the kitchen chair, and placed Susan in her lap. Eliza wrung out the rag, and reapplied the compress. And that's what she did for the next two hours. Feeding her tea, giving her ice, cold compresses, giving her orange juice, apple juice, garlic soup, ginger, raisins, and every home remedy she'd ever known.

There was no mistress' daughter, there was no hate, no anger. This was a child, and she was a mother here to help. At 1:23 am, her fever broke.

Susan's eyes were closing. _"She'll be okay,"_ Eliza thought, smiling softly. _"She needs rest. I pray the doctor knows what he's doing upstairs with her mother."_ Eliza sang softly, lulling the girl to sleep.

 _"_ _Hush, little baby, don't say a word,_

 _Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird._

 _And if that mockingbird don't sing,_

 _Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring._

 _And if that diamond ring turns brass,_

 _Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass._

 _And if that looking glass is broke,_

 _Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat,_

 _And if that billy goat won't pull,_

 _Mama's gonna buy you a cart and a bull."_

Eliza was comforted by Susan's gentle, rhythmic inhales and exhales. "You'll be okay," Eliza whispered. She ran her hand through the blonde curls. "You're okay. You're okay. You'll be okay." _We'll be okay._


End file.
